Noteworthy Adventures (Part III and Part IV)

And now- the exciting continuation of my overly long blog post!

Adventure number three: Greve Strand.  Greve, as you know, is the village I live in.  Strand, in Danish, means beach.  So yes, this is the local beach.  I've been told that nowhere in Denmark is more that 20 km from the water- be it a sea or strait.  At first, I found this kind of an amazing thought.  But there were too geographical facts that need to be kept in mind.  First, Denmark is composed of a series of small islands, as well as 1 peninsula (Jutland).  Of course, with this shape, proximity to water is a given.  Also, the scale of this country is astounding!  I always think of European countries in terms of what I learned in French class- "La France est à peu près la même taille que le Texas." Aka: France is about the size of Texas.  The is also true of Germany, Spain, Poland, etc.  But Denmark?  Denmark ranks somewhere between West Virginia (on the bigger end) and Maryland (on the smaller end).  It is a TINY country.  In spite of all of the islands and distances between areas of the nation, to travel to Jutland takes only a few hours- thanks to the AMAZING bridges that have been added, including the second longest suspension bridge in the world, from Sjælland (pronounced Zee-land, where Copenhagen is) to Fyn (pronounces Foon, the island just to the West, which separates the capital from Jutland and the rest of Europe).  Anyway, this is a small place with a lot of beaches.  And, given the short distances to the water, the beaches are well used in the summer.  By this time of year, people have mostly given up on them, except for the polar bears (called Vikings here!).  Not that the beach is so cold, but the water is icy.  Anyway, my village, Greve, is only 5 km from the Strand, and so I hope to take advantage of it as often as possible.  You see, there is an incredible biking culture here, and most roads come equipped with either very nice, wide bike lanes, or separate bike roads all together.  Getting to the beach is pretty much a straight shot, right past the Greve Train Station.  I was briefly introduced to the Strand with my parents when we came to have dinner with Henning, Inga, and Katrine.  But it was very quick, and late in the afternoon.  So, I had to go back.  I decided that I could probably handle a 5k on my own if I took my time, and on Sunday morning, jogged out there- and made it successfully!  (Bolder Boulder, here I come!)  Unfortunately, it was difficult to document how beautiful it was... I don't typically bring my camera or my sketchbook out on my runs.  So, I came back the next morning (yes, somehow I got Labor Day off again this year!) by bike.  It's really amazing, because you can't see the water at all until you are RIGHT there.  This is because a natural thin layer of forest grows right up along the coast here- it is dense but, like I said, maybe only 30 feet deep.  Just enough to keep the beach invisible from an unknowing observer.  

My bike at the edge of the 'forest'.  The beach is just about 30 feet to the right through the trees!

Once you get through the narrow trails of the forest, the wide expanse of the water opens up before your eyes!  The sand is very, very fine and incredibly white, and in the morning, the semi-low fall sun makes the still water glimmer playfully.  Because this is a strait, not open water, there are few big waves, just a gentle ebb and flow of the natural tide.  On this particular bit of beach, right as you pass through the trees, there is a tiny little pier meant for sitting and descending into the water, if one is willing to brave the cold.  As you walk onto it, there is the most bizarre feeling that you are not walking on a solid object, like a pier, but rather some invisible force like a cloud, holding you suspended by just a few feet over the water.  And it feels that if you keep walking, you could walk the same way, all the way to Sweden, which, by the tiniest hint of a black line on the horizon, and a few even tinier vertical lines like boat masts, seems to be waiting somewhere far off.  To the left of the dock, one can see the gray silhouette of a power plant, with a trapazoidal main building, and thin, sleek wind blades turning slowly and silently.  On the right, a small jetty, where boats have been tied up on either side.  Off behind it, the silhouette of further coastlines.

The view to the South.

I sat on the pier for some time, sketching for my Visual Journal class.  Although, when I first arrived on the beach, there was already someone on the pier, and from the experience I had had the day before, I wanted to be able to approach the water and follow the path to the terminus on my own.  So, I sat in the sand for 15 or 20 minutes on my own, taking pictures, pondering, and beginning my drawings.  You can imagine (given the Danish way of dealing with strangers) my surprise when the woman who had been on the pier approached me, speaking Danish, and smiling.  I explained my lack of proficiency in the language (I am working on that, I promise!), and so she began to speak somewhat choppy English to me.  She asked me what I was doing (I showed her my sketchbook) and why I was here.  I explained that I was a foreign student, and we then determined where, in the city, I went to school.  She then asked where I lived, and I was, happily, proficient enough to properly pronounce "Greve Landsby" (again, pronounced Gray-veh Laands-boo.  The word Landsby means "village" and differentiates where I live from the Greve Strand, as well as the new community that has developed near the station, adopting the name of Greve).  She, apparently, had a relative living in the village, so we happily drew a map in the sand showing roads, the Greve Museum, the local church, the village store, and my house. 

Our beautiful map in the sand.  My house is the big circle in the upper right corner.

The woman, Linda, then happily explained that her relative, Susanne, lived very close to me- in a yellow house!  And... just as quickly as she had approached me, Linda was gone, running off to receive a phone call.  After she was gone, I finished what I was sketching, and because the pier was finally vacant, approached it again.  And yes, it was as magical the second time as it had been the first.  The same sense of floating, the same amazing openness. 

The pier.  I swear, some magic power would take me all the way to Sweden.

Happily, I sat at the end of the pier and sketched and took pictures.  But, surprisingly for a Monday morning, the beach was actually fairly active.  In fact, people came and went, most of them coming onto the pier at one time or another.  And despite the very solid construction, every time someone walked down the catwalk, the entire pier shook in a mini earthquake.  So it was when a quiet old man, wearing a purple robe and using a walking cane, came out to the water.  And... imagine my surprise when the old man, completely without hesitation, put down his cane, threw off his robe, and completely naked jumped into the water for a quick swim.  I did my best not to look, but he definitely wasn't wearing anything.  And again, with the same straightforwardness as he had entered the water, he climbed back up the ladder, put on his robe, picked up his cane, and went walking back towards shore.  Next came a woman to swim (thankfully, she wore a bathing suit), and just as she was finishing up her routine, a large group of people- mostly young women about my age, but of all ethnic backgrounds (it was incredibly diverse for Denmark) came through the trees onto the beach.  They walked around looking like this was a new and splendid wonder, and so, it seemed to me that they were foreigners.  The woman must have thought the same, and said to me something in Danish, ending with a chuckle in the word "turister", which means tourists.  I chuckled too, knowing what she was thinking, and muttered the only word I could think of in Danish- "ja".  Quickly, the swimmer went her own way, and I, ignoring the tourists, went back to my drawings.  

Back to shore and the North from the pier.

Until, of course, I was approached again.  This time is was a man- probably 35 or 40, bald, with olive colored skin.  He spoke to me in Danish (which surprised me, because he was part of the tourist group) and then, again, I had to explain, embarrassed, that I don't speak Danish.  So, he switched to English and asked me what I was doing, and where I was from.  I explained (again) that I was a foreign student from the United States, studying architecture, and was drawing for one of my classes.  He replied with two comments which I found equally surprising.  First, he told me that he had thought I was Russian.  (Random!) Second, that he was Afghani, and that he loved the United States, and that they were doing very good things for his homeland.  Honestly, I have NEVER been told by a foreign person that they a. liked the US or b. thought they were we doing good work in the Middle East.  It made me really happy, because I had gotten used to being sort of silently disapproved of here.  Well, after that I had to head out.  I needed to do some shopping at Wave, the second largest mall in Scandinavia, in Hundige (pronouced Who'n-dee).  

Waves!  Beautiful but eerily empty.

In case you are wondering, I bought a headband (short hair and strong winds do not mix!) and a scarf for 120 DKK (kroner), approximately $24, at H&M.  The mall itself was very big, and really quite beautiful, very open and clean-cut and light.  But, it was also sort of depressing, because it opened 3 years ago, in the midst of a financial meltdown... and I've got to say, it really hasn't gotten that much better.  Large portions of the mall were closed or empty, and all of the walking space was being taken over by signs of "unsalg" (sale).  After getting what I needed, I didn't really stay that long.


My fourth adventure was a family outing- the annual DIS Housing Picnic.  It took place at Staunings Plæne (plæne means lawn) in Klampenborg, a city just North of Copenhagen.  It was a really beautiful park RIGHT on the beach, amptly called a lawn, because the grass was amazingly green and very expansive.  

Across Staunings Plæne to the beach.

I came with Inga and Henning, and we brought this really cute picnic set- a green backpack full of plates, knives, forks, napkins, and a really classy thermos, plus a picnic blanket- an American flag one!- as well as a barley salad to share with everyone else (we all had to bring something to share) and pork cutlets and sausages to grill.  We also got one free drink each (of course I got a Carlsberg... I mean free beer.  Really?  Who would pass that up?).  Everything was delicious- fruit salads, pasta, couscous, bread, and the sausages!  Mmmmm.  Plus, we had these mini chocolate chip cookies (the cute round packaged kind) to have with coffee at the end.  How Danish!  What was also really nice was that it was an institute-wide picnic, so I got to see a bunch of people with their host families or Danish roommates.  

My many many salads at the picnic!

 Eva, for example, has a VERY cool older (like 30's) guy roommate, who I think is the editor of a magazine.  Also, Kelton, who is from Boulder (went to Fairview) and goes to Cornell (studying architecture too), introduced me to his host family.  I guess his host dad loves pizza, so he went to Italy to buy an Italian pizza over, disassembled it, shipped it all to Denmark, and reassembled it in his back yard!  They, obviously, have pizza parties with it, and I (hopefully) will be invited to one in the future!  And finally, I met a girl named Tally, who sat down with her host family right next to us.  What was funny about this is that our host parents (and her host sister) recognized one another immediately.  They live in completely different areas of the Copenhagen region, but I guess their daughter went to school with my host sister, Katrine, and they are really good friends.  Katrine wasn't there because she is already at school, and this girl was about to leave in a few days I think, also.  But to run into these people, who were also very nice, was pretty cool.  

Look at all the people!!!

After we finished lunch (before coffee) Henning and I went down to the water to walk around.  And what did we find but a bunch of kayaks brought specifically be someone (I'm not sure who... I think a host parent) for DIS students to use in the water!  So, I got to suit up in a life jacket and sea kayak for a few minutes.  I hit a bunch of SUPER big waves because I boat had just passed by- it was so fun.  It was even more fun because there were 20 or so kayaks in a very tight space, so everyone kept running into everyone.  Not great for the kayaks, but kind of a fun bonding activity for us.  Not that I will ever see those people again, but the sense of group good spirit was very nice.  

Action shop of me at the end of my kayak adventure!

 Finally, maybe the highlight of the day for me, even above the great food or kayaking, was sitting and drinking our coffee to the music of the fødselsdag (birthday) song.  As opposed to English, where we all wearily sing a very boring song off key, the Danish birthday song seems to make everyone smile.  Why?  Because it's ridiculous, that's why!  Basically, I gathered that the song entails naming the birthday person (ex- Tiffany har en fødselsdag)in song, and then naming an instrument (also in song).  You then proceed to sing a little jingle in the voice of that instrument.  The song starts again at the beginning, and goes on as long as the song leader continues to choose instruments.  I think we heard a piano, a trumpet, and a trombone.  It was super funny.  The girl who's birthday it was laughed and laughed.  I would have too.  And, her cake was basically a giant gingerbread man cake covered in icing and licorice.  Oh, and Danish flags.  They like those here.

Inga, me, and Henning at the end of our wonderful picnic day!

Well, I leave for Western Denmark and Jutland tomorrow morning at 8.  And by 8 I mean I leave here at 7 so I can be at the bus in Copenhagen at 8.  I get back Saturday afternoon, and should have lots more to tell!

Initial Impressions

I've been in Copenhagen for a week now, and I'm only finding time to write this due to an unfortunate decision by one of my new professors to NOT photocopy a required reading and put it in the compendium (a large bound packet of readings and information) that we were given for the course.  There are perhaps 30 students and 8 books, all but two of which have been put on reserve.  The other two have been taken without being checked out.  I know this because there are no librarians in the library until 5 today... and I was told that there were 2 copies on the shelves this morning.  So... I am waiting until I can get my hands on one and leave.

The reason I'm in such a hurry to go home is that home is pretty far away.  Something between a 45 minute and 1 hour commute, depending on if I catch the exchange just right and if there is railway traffic.  I didn't even know there was such a thing.  The town I live in is called 'Greve' (pronounced grey-ve, with the r rolling in the back of the throat).  And technically, it isn't even a town- it's a village.  There are maybe 2,000 people, which may be an overestimate, and one very cute village store.  They have their own train station, serviced by the 's-tog', the regional trains of Copenhagen, E and A route.  BUT my family lives a good 5 kilometers from the station, which a reasonable bike ride, but not a reasonable walk.  So, I have to take a bus, the 600S, from my closest stop, about a block away, to the station.  And, I would ride my bike, because I've been told by my host parents, Henning and Inga, that it's usually faster and more convenient, but the weather forecast has called for rain and strong winds since I've been here.  And that isn't really preferable biking weather to me.

In fact, the weather here hasn't been entirely preferable.  Or really preferable at all.  To anyone.  I guess this has been an incredibly wet season, and they have gotten twice as much rain as normal this month.  And it's so much rain that not even the farmers like it.  I would know, Henning used to be a farmer.  What I find most impressive about the weather however, is how quickly the weather changes.  The clouds move with visible speed in the sky- like nothing I've ever seen before; a downpour turns into sun in a matter of minutes.  Yesterday, in fact, I went with some other DIS students to a cafe after we were done with orientation, and it rained and stopped two or three times while they were eating (and I was drinking a chai latte).  It was actually funny to watch, because the Danes seemed to understand this fickle weather, and the pedestrians and cyclists simply moved off of the streets and sidewalks to wait it out under store awnings.  For a few minutes the streets were completely empty (something I have not seem any other time here), but then, as soon as it had begun, it ended, and everyone went back on their way.

Probably the second most interesting thing I have begun paying attention to is the food here.  First of all, it is incredibly expensive.  Well, I guess everything is incredibly expensive- they say about twice as much.  But, I mean, it's a little ridiculous.  I street vendor hot dog, a pølser (which is really, really good by the way) is 25 DKK, which translates to about 5 dollars.  A hamburger with fries at a restaurant can be as much as 22 dollars.  Yikes!  However,  I've found all of the food very delicious- they seem to really like salt, sugar, butter, and pork, so everything is very flavorful.  I think a lot of things they eat are probably looked upon with a little skepticism by foreigners (especially Americans, who have little experience with European food culture), but mostly I've found it appealing.  They eat a very dense rye bread (which, I think they think is the only kind of rye bread) almost religiously, and frequently use it to make open-faced sandwiches called smørrebrød.  It frequently involves both butter and pork on top.  But, while many DIS students I've spoken with seem to detest the rye bread, I actually really like it on the smørrebrød.  The butter (or, alternately, mayonnaise) adds the necessary moistness to the bread, and I like the flavor.  Especially when put in a packed lunch the evening before, and then let to sit overnight.  I was really proud of myself, actually, because last night I made my packed lunch (a common Danish way to avoid the expensive prices of restaurants in the city) for myself.  In my little box (with a picture of the Sun Maid raisin lady on it) I had one open-faced sandwich, made with mayo and salami, a carrot, a sweet Danish pickle, a brownie cookie, and a PB&J on white bread.  Which, for the record, was a big deal.  Peanut butter is hard as hell to come by here.

My packed lunch of smørrebrød, tomatoes, and a cookie the first day.

But, I have probably the nicest host family I could imagine.  They have had 3 previous DIS host students, and seem to already understand everything I am going to need.  So, they had already found the peanut butter.  And nutella.  Plus, Inga is a really amazing cook.  I hope someday once I'm settled she'll teach me how to cook some of the food she has been preparing, but so far she's done it all.  And it has all been SO good.  We had frikadeller (pork and beef/veal meatballs that are panfriend), hakkebøf (basically beef patties, served with cooked onions and gravy on top), grilled pork, rice, salad, and of course... potatoes.  I'm getting the impression that Danish people really like potatoes.  Not that I mind.  Potatoes are a pretty unoffensive starch.  Besides that, they definitely like beer.  Locals like Tuborg and Carlsberg are available in every corner store (most of them a 7-elevens), and because there is no law against open alcohol containers in Denmark, they are frequently seen on the train and bus at all hours.  I guess drinking is legal at the age of 16 here, and like in the US, they start earlier than that.  So, by the time they reach 21, they have very tolerant livers.

I guess you could say Greve is a little inconvenient because of the travel time, especially if I want to stay out at night (when the bus stops running, and the train only comes once an hour or so), but I like it nonetheless.  The house is brick covered in a thin, sleek layer of plaster, with a red tile roof (I thought I was leaving those in California!).  Some neighboring houses even have real thatch roofs! The village then, has the feeling of a quiet, quaint, old countryside.  Best of all about the house, they gave me a big room all to myself with a breathtaking view out over a wheat field.  In the morning, when the sun is still low, you can see the rows made by the combines, and the rhythm and color is so beautiful.  I've never lived in the country, so I guess I'm probably just not used to it, but really.  Every morning out my window.  And on my way to the bus.  And on the way home in the afternoon.  It's probably one (of several) highlights of my day.  Another thing I like (slightly less) about my room is the bed.  When I first walked in, I thought I didn't have one, because all I saw was a desk, a crib (for one of my host sister's friend's daughter), a love-seat, and a couch.  But, it turns out a very frequent substitute for a 'real' bed in Denmark is either a futon or a couch with a roll-out bed.  And no, I don't mean like a bed hidden under the couch.  I mean, there is a bed rolled up behind the back cushions.  When you're ready for bed, you take off the cushions, undo Velcro straps on either end of the couch, and unroll a pillow-top, a bottom sheet, and a comforter, as well as a pillow.  For the record, the comforter thing is pretty cool.  They are incredibly warm, and very soft and cozy.  But this time of year since it isn't too cold yet, they can be too warm, so I usually end up curled to one side of it, or with the bottom half of me sticking out from underneath.

The view as I walk out the front door in the morning.

Aside from the basic living conditions, and cultural norms, I have seen some amazing places here.  Over the course of orientation activities and personal wanderings, I have seen: 1.) The Støget, which is the longest pedestrian shopping walk in the world and has expanded itself into other side streets as well.  It has a slight touristy impression, but I guess I can't complain as I would say for now I still count as a tourist.  But it also has some high-end shopping, and some more reasonable shops too, like H&M.  There are also lots of food carts and stands set up along the way.  Mostly, the options are shwarma or pølser, which are the least expensive anyway, but there are also gelato stands, a few cafes and restaurants in the plazas and squares (called torv), and even some fruit vendors.  2.) The Botanical Gardens, made with a lake that ties back to Medieval bastions in the old, old city.  The walks are winding and quiet, all with great views of either the lake or the surrounding historical buildings.  There are also self-guided tours that look at poisonous plants, or conversely, biblical plants.  3.) The Royal Gardens & Rosenborg Castle, which are found together across the street from the Botanical Gardens.  The Royal Gardens are much more formal, with straight walks and alleys under perfectly groomed trees.  There are also expansive lawns where Danes go to have picnics and sunbathe.  The Castle is also very old, dating back to the Renaissance.  It still has the original moat, as well as guards who patrol the grounds with very large guns, but like the British, completely ignore everything and everyone but their duty.  The Castle itself had gardens, again, very formal, but very beautiful, full of roses.  4.) Nyhavn (pronounced new-haav'n), the pictorially famous canal/port section of the city.  Honestly, I understand now why they take so many pictures of it.  Once the 'new' part of the city (ny means new, and havn means harbor), the buildings have lasted longer than in most other areas, and in fact, are some of the distinguishable oldest, at least the oldest in a large quantity.  The buildings are also a mix of stunning colors- red, yellow, white, blue- all along the street, which has in its center a canal full of (also) very old looking boats.  It feels a little like going back in time, except for all of the people walking around.  It was very, very crowded. 

A view of the canal, boats, and buildings of Nyhavn

5.) Rådhus, which means 'town hall'.  It's a neo-gothic building, which I don't greatly appreciate, but it has a grand stage presence.  Why?  Well, most obviously, it's quite large, but more than that, it is fronted by a large plaza, which seems to dramatically increase its perceived size.  Also, this square, lines with flashing signs and huge posters, has almost a hint of Times Square in it, and the overwhelming quantity of information makes the building look majestic and simple in comparison.  On the inside, there is a natural-light (but indoor, thank goodness) courtyard where events are held.  For us, it was orientation speeches, which were quite boring and long-winded.  What was nice were the many Danish flags hanging from the walls, and the 'pancakes' served to us afterward.  I put quotations around pancakes because that is what they were called, but they were really custard filled crepes.  What they are called in Danish, I am not sure, because I asked and was never told.  Hm. 

The DIS Opening Ceremony in the Raadhus Courtyard

6.) Parliament, the planned original home for the royal family, which is not where they live now.  But it is where the democratic government is run, as well as the justice system, and it is the location of the Queen's weekly council.  Apparently, the building is relatively new, given the fact that there were 2 others before it, both of which burned down in fires.  Again, it's big and imposing, but beautifully, crafted.  7.) Tivoli, perhaps the happiest place on earth.  I know, I know, people say Disneyland is the happiest place on earth BUT think about it this way: the Danes are the happiest people on earth, and this is their amusement park.  Plus, rumor has it that Disneyworld was inspired by Tivoli, with its international themes, and most importantly, its castle.  The lines for rides are shorter (although they do cost money on top of the entrance fee... leave it to a Dane), and there are shows and events that are presumably free all night long.

The gardens of Tivoli at night.

For now, I think I'm out of words.  Too bad, since I still have 45 minutes before a librarian shows up to let me check out a book.  However, in closing remarks: I like it here, in spite of the poor weather, and am looking forward to the even colder, wetter months (even though that does mean several fewer hours of sun), and to learning some the words to this very complicated language.  Classes start tomorrow, and then some structure returns to my life.  But, I plan to find some time for more unstructured wanderings and explorations to blog about very soon.